


In Your Footsteps

by galoots



Series: Loots Duck Universe (LDU) [6]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks, Parental Scrooge, good parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 01:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20201371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galoots/pseuds/galoots
Summary: Day One of Team Uncle Week - Domestic Life/Parenting:It’s Bring Your Child to Work day at McDuck Enterprises, and Scrooge has brought his nephew Donald in like every year before. Scrooge is certain that his nephew, on the cusp of adulthood, will pursue the same career path as him, but when Donald gets fed up with his lofty expectations, Scrooge learns a hard lesson. Sometimes what’s best for our children is letting them find their own path.





	In Your Footsteps

“Listen up, everyone!” The rap of Scrooge’s cane against the tile floor echoed throughout the buzzing lobby of McDuck Enterprise’s central headquarters. Heads swiveled from every direction to face the source of the noise, and once all eyes were firmly on the company’s CEO, Scrooge could begin his announcement. Brandishing the tip of his cane towards Donald, who looked equal parts uncomfortable and mortified, Scrooge loudly announced the following to his faithful employees.

“This,” he declared, with a waggle of his cane, "is my darling ward, Donald. Many of you—those who have worked here a long time—know him already. For the few employees for which this is their first year here, and may not recognize him, I caution you to listen up. Take a good look at his face and commit it to memory. Study his features. Remember them well. Because some day in the future, this will be the face of your new boss.”

Longtime employees of McDuck Enterprise looked on with weary, bored expressions. They had heard this spiel many times and were no stranger to McDuck’s bravado when it came to his nephew. A few company greenhorns let out spasmodic bouts of weak, uncertain applause that quickly faded away when they realized no one had joined them. Scrooge beamed out at his little worker bees, his face a mélange of pride and confidence.

Today was the day of the 17th annual “Bring Your Child to Work Day” at McDuck Enterprise. An event Scrooge had initiated as a company-wide event the same year his nephew was born. Naturally, Scrooge schlepped Donald to the yearly occasion in order to educate his ward and as an excuse to tout around his little CEO-in-the-making. A fact Donald would find touching, if not for his uncle’s adamant insistence that he repeat the same declaration year after year, after year, after year. At first, he’d found it inspiring: a motivating promise he hoped to fulfill to make his uncle proud. Later on, he found it lost its _oomph _after repeat viewings until it had become plain funny to hear Scrooge’s artless, yet sincere affirmation. However, now, well into his teen years, he found it deeply troubling. Every year, he’d find himself smiling apologetically at the other parents and their children as his uncle dragged him from event to event. Usually, he was met with conciliatory expressions from the other parents, weary but understanding, or at least pretending to be. Occasionally, from the more sycophantic employees, he’d receive cajoling, self-servicing attention meant to ingratiate themselves into his good graces. He found neither of these congenial per se, but they were certainly preferable to the looks of out-right disdain from some of the other teenagers that were present. Even though these looks pained him, Donald couldn’t find it in himself to blame these teens, many of them his classmates, for their malice. Instead, he sympathized with them. From their perspective, he must appear the spoiled son of a business magnate, whose privileged future was secured with blatant nepotism. So, while he could find no reason to complain about a day off from school, nor one spent with his adoring uncle, he dreaded the annual event all the same. Scrooge, benign to the loaded atmosphere, merely placed a supportive, guiding arm around his shoulders.

“Come now, Donald. I’ve got plenty to show you this year. I’m terribly excited for you to see what I’ve got in store for you.” Scrooge gently lead him down the hall, unaware of the worry brewing in his nephew’s troubled head.

Touring the facility reminded Donald of the undeniable fact that his uncle truly was a titan of the industry, regardless of the market or its reach. It seemed like there was no piece of the pie that Scrooge didn’t own, and it was enough to make Donald’s head spin. As they toured his facility, Scrooge lectured Donald about their various entrepreneurial pursuits—their challenges, their compromises, and—most importantly—their victories. While he didn’t find it uninteresting, Donald found it incredibly overwhelming to the point of exhaustion. He couldn’t understand how his uncle could juggle it all, and still manage to have a life on top of work. So rather than listen to the particulars of the tales of commerce and finance his uncle spun, he chose to attend to the man’s warm and ardent tone.

It was endearing to hear a loved one go on at length about a fervent interest, Donald thought. Many people perceived his Uncle Scrooge as a cold, indifferent man, but Donald knew this wasn’t true. His uncle’s single-minded pursuit to his work was admirable, and Scrooge spoke of it in the same tenor he used to discuss Donald’s own accomplishments. Comparatively, he knew his odd A+ paper or sports trophy couldn’t hold a candle to his uncle’s vast empire, yet he never felt lesser than Scrooge or his devotion to his company. Scrooge held him in tantamount, if not greater, esteem to his vast fortune, his legacy, and immortal empire he’d built. His uncle would often jokingly exclaim that he’d been a poor old man until Donald became a part of his life despite having well-established his estate long before his birth.

Nonetheless, Scrooge’s ensured confidence in Donald’s ability to serve as his heir unsettled the boy. What should he do, if he proved himself unworthy of that esteem? 

“Donald?” Scrooge shook him gently, sending his trouble thoughts running to the corners of his mind. “Are you alright there, lad?”

“Peachy keen, Uncle Scrooge.” Donald flashed his uncle a smile, hoping it was a convincing one.

Scrooge smiled at him, patting his shoulder approvingly. “Good. Shall we make our way to the conference room then?”

“What for?” Donald couldn’t remember a prior year where he’d been allowed to sit on one of Scrooge’s influential, industry-changing business meetings. 

“I’ve a meeting to attend of course. I’d like you to observe.”

The meeting was suitably dull as Donald had expected. Droning executives, confusing jargon, and pressed black and navy suits as far as the eye could see. Twenty minutes in, and Donald already found himself lost. He simply adopted a strategy he often employed in similarly less than stimulating classes. He kept his eyes bright and intent, focused on whoever was speaking, head nodding like a bobblehead, while his mind was a million miles away. As the bigwigs around him discussed at length whatever issue at hand, Donald began to draft a villanelle he was writing in his head. Lost in the lyrical pleasures of poetic composition, he barely heard an unfamiliar voice call his name.

Snapping to attention, he found the room’s eyes trained on him. A woman smiled wryly at him and repeated her phrase. “Donald, I asked if you had any insights into our predicament. A new, foreign perspective often proves beneficial in such matters, and you _are_ Mr. McDuck’s heir, after all.”

Donald couldn’t decipher the woman’s obfuscating smile. Was she asking earnestly? Did she mean to test him? Or did she simply intend to embarrass him, proving to the other higher-ups that he was unfit for his privileged role?

The audible click of the nearby clock’s second hand marked the passing of his elapsed silence. A moment, seconds long, stretched thin to an eternity on the blade of his anxiety, until Scrooge cleared his throat with authoritative control.

“Mrs. Montgomery, while I applaud your initiative, Donald is here only to learn, not to provide input. I’d ask that you stay on track and treat his presence here as you would any observing third-party. While I have no doubt of Donald’s illuminating judgement, it’s neither the time nor place to put him on the spot to share it.”

Sinking down low into his chair, Donald wished for the ability to disappear. He calmly waited until the meeting had ended before briskly leaving the room to bolt for the nearest unenclosed space. Panic squeezed his throat and his ears were filled with the pounding of his heart, in frantic rhythm with his footsteps as he climbed the stairwell. Bursting out onto the roof terrace, Donald gasped for breath. He choked on the air, a sharp pain in his chest, while the feeling he was coming untethered from reality settled upon him. The world turned bizarre and alien around him, as if suddenly viewed through kaleidoscopic vision. His perception pulled away from him like a dolly zoom as he fell away from himself. Gradually, he recognized a warm, unimposing hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles there, and a voice instructing him to breathe. He imagined a feather floating in front of him, ascending with each inhaled and descending with each subsequent exhale.

Slowly, he clicked back into place, and became aware of Scrooge kneeling next to him, on his bad knee no less, on top of the windy roof terrace. When he fully came to, he was sitting next to his uncle on the rooftop bench, sipping a bottle of herbal tea purchased from a nearby vending machine.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, looking firmly at the cement underneath his unsteady feet.

Scrooge kept a steady hand on the expanse between his shoulder blades. “Don’t apologize, Donald. I had no clue Mrs. Montgomery would put you on the spot like that. I’m so sorry.” That hand kept Donald anchored as he squeezed out angry tears. They splattered onto the cement, marking it a dark gray. Scrooge continued to comfort him as he cried. “The worst of it is over now. We can go home right away or stay here if you prefer. Whatever you need to make you feel better.”

He felt calmer now but still raw, like the wind could rip right through him at any moment. One more stiff breeze and he might topple off the precarious position he occupied on top of this roof. The feelings he’d been trying to push away all day only continued their assault and Donald could feel himself finally buckle.

“Uncle Scrooge, what if I don’t want to run your company?” A small voice, that must have been his own, queried.

“What?” From the sound of his uncle’s voice, he must have caught Scrooge off-guard. “I thought… do you not _want_ to?”

Donald swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. “Business is your thing. I know you just want what’s best for me, and I want to make you proud, but—What if I’m no good at it?! What if I don’t like it? I feel like there’s all this pressure to be like you and—” His voice hitched as it reached a frantic pitch.

“Slow down. Don’t forget to breathe.” His uncle held him reassuringly, letting Donald rest on his shoulder and catch his breath. “Oh Donald… I had no idea you felt like this. Tell me everything that’s bothering you.”

With his uncle’s go-ahead, the truth welled up inside him, fit to burst. Donald unburdened himself of the mounting pressure that had dogged him all day and all these years. His fears of disappointing Scrooge, his growing anxiety he couldn’t meet his expectations, his doubts he even wanted to follow Scrooge’s career path. He felt lighter and lighter with each admission that slipped from his beak. Scrooge listened quietly and attentively to all he had to say. When he came to a close, Scrooge waited for him to continue before he collected his own thoughts to speak.

“I owe you an apology, Donald.” His uncle braced him with a protective grasp. “I feel utterly wretched putting you through all this. It sounds like you were incredibly stressed because I was pushing you into something you felt ill-suited for. You must have felt so trapped. This was eating away at you for a while, wasn’t it?”

Donald nodded meekly, his head nestled in crook of Scrooges neck.

“Of course, you were. You had every right to be. I know nothing I can say can undo the pain I’ve already put you through, but I am truly sorry.” The tell-tale sound of emotion choked Scrooge’s throat as he spoke. “I love you so much, darling. I’ll be proud of you no matter what you chose to do. I hope you know that.”

Scrooge sighed deeply before he resumed speaking. “I should have asked you what _you _wanted, instead of bullheadedly forcing my own expectations for your future on you. I’m so sorry, Donnie. I’ll do better from here on out, I swear.”

He hugged him tightly, rocking him slightly in his arms. Donald hugged him back, his arms wrapped around his uncle’s waist, feeling younger than his years, smaller than his frame, and calmer than he’d felt all day.

Speaking in a subdued tone, Donald murmured into his uncle’s feathery neck: “I forgive you, Uncle Scrooge.”

The sun was starting to set as Scrooge and Donald walked the length of the park. They walked in silence for the most part, until Scrooge cleared his throat with a nervous tremor. “Donald… When I made all those speeches about you, I never intended to pressure you. I wanted you to know that I believe in you, because I really _do_ believe you could run my company in the future. You’d be great at it! I never doubted that for a moment. And I guess… I wanted everyone else to know how amazing you are.” Scrooge took off his hat. “I was foolish. I thought if I let everyone know how proud I am of you and how much I believe in you, then you’d feel motivated and empowered to step up to the plate! But all I did was make you miserable.” Scrooge fumbled awkwardly with the brim, keeping his eyes downcast and off of Donald’s face.

His uncle looked vulnerable and uncertain as he stumbled through his explanation. “Donald, I don’t want you to get the impression I’m pressuring you to be like me. I don’t want you to be like me.” His shoulders slumped and his hands dropped to his sides.

Donald’s breath caught in his throat, completely blindsided by his uncle’s admission. Reeling with confusion, he tried to parse the meaning of that declaration but found himself more lost than before. “Why not? You’re so,” he searched for the right word to encapsulate his image of Scrooge with the floundering desperation of a drowning man, “…amazing.” He shook his head at the descriptor he’d chosen. That wasn’t even close to what he wanted to express. Maybe, he thought, words couldn’t describe it. “No, I mean, it’s just that, well, I guess I’m trying to say is—you’re Scrooge McDuck_!” _He spoke the name with such adoration and wonder in his voice his uncle started to chuckle self-consciously.

“Ach, Donnie.” Scrooge wore a far-off, sad expression that Donald was to young to truly understand. He ran a hand over his head, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “I haven’t been the best person in the past, Donald. Far from it. My path here has been paved with innumerable misdeeds, and there are many things I regret. If I could go back and right them, I would.” Here Scrooge raised his eyes, full of solemnity, to meet his nephew’s concerned gaze. “But there’s one thing I’d never change, and it’s you. I am the man I am today because you came into my life. You forced me to care again.”

Scrooge was silent for a long moment, looking off into the horizon then placed a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “I used to think a parent guided their child’s life and shaped them into the person they ought to be. Like you were a lump of clay I had to mold into a finished piece.” Shaking his head, Scrooge laughed at himself. “I know better now. Children shape themselves. All I did was make sure you didn’t stray too far from your proper path.”

The warmth of his uncle’s fond countenance made something settle in Donald’s chest, something he hadn’t known was stirring or even there to begin with. Now that it had calmed and settled into place, Donald felt like he had untensed a muscle that had been locked for a long time or released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Donald, I love watching you grow, and I love growing with you. You are your own person. You aren’t like me, nor should you be. Maybe there’s an impression of myself in you, probably the stubborn part of you, but you do things in a way all your own and by your own agency. My company is yours to run in the future, but it’s up to you decide how to run it. In your own Donald-like way.”

The hand on his shoulder lifted to pat him before Scrooge returned it to his side. “T-that is, if you want to, of course.”

Donald let out a little chuckle, and the two of them continued their lazy promenade through the park for a silent stretch of time. The sun was sinking lower in the sky as the evening twilight spread over the city of Duckburg, painting it in cool blues and honey-toned pinks and oranges.

“Now that I know how you feel, what do you want to do, nephew?”

Donald gave a lame shrug. “I’m not sure. There’s so much I’m interested in. Picking one thing is so hard.”

Scrooge gave a curt little nod, but remained silent, looking at him sincerely.

“I like poetry.” He stated with equally faltering sentiment as before.

“You are quite good at it.” Scrooge admitted with that resonant tone of voice Donald had admired earlier.

“You read my poetry?” Donald often handed his recently drafted compositions to Scrooge, but he’d always assumed his uncle was too busy to actually read through them.

“Of course!” Scrooge said with a haughty tone.

Donald chuckled at his uncle’s mock offense, shaking his head. He’d never thought of his uncle as the literary type, but he trusted that he always spoke his mind. 

“Maybe… maybe I do want to follow your footsteps in the future, Uncle Scrooge. Maybe not by running your business, but I do want to find something that makes me as happy as you are when you’re talking about your business.” Donald shuffled his feet. “I think its cool. How much you care. And how hard you work. I think that’s really admirable.”

They walked on in meditative silence. From the corner of his eye, Donald caught Scrooge grinning heartily.

Donald felt his beak reflexively curve into a grin. He took his hands from his pockets and looped his arm around Scrooge’s own. “I don’t know what you were like in the past, Uncle Scrooge, but I do know that I’m really lucky to have a parent like you. Maybe you don’t always do stuff right or smart or whatever, but you always listen to me when you mess up. You listened to me today, and you were ready and willing to change afterwards. No matter what, you treat me with empathy and respect. Whatever I do in the future… I know I want to be just like you.”

Arm in arm, walking amongst shaded poplars and creeping ivy, Donald politely declined to tease his uncle for the tears welling from his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Starting the week off right with some good old-fashioned LDU Scrooge loving his son so much that he accidentally creates problems for him. Woops. I think a good parent isn't one that never messes up or makes mistakes, but one who listens to their child so that it doesn't happen again. Which is sort of a running theme with LDU Scrooge.


End file.
